Sexual Saturdays!
by cockrockets
Summary: March 18th. A fateful day with many fateful occurrences. Originally a chatlog by Konata101, RiYuYami, and The-Angelic-One. Fanficified by the illustrious cockrockets. NSFH, Russia England/America, BLUEBERRIES. You have been warned.


~*~SEXUAL SATURDAY~*~

The Tale of Alfred Beauregarde

Pairing: Russia + England/America

Content warnings: BLUEBERRIES

Rating: Not Safe For Humanity (NSFH)

**Chat by**

The-Angelic-One

RiYuYami

Konata101

**Fanfic'd by**

cockrockets on tumblr

March 18: A day where many events had happened. A day where computer viruses were released, Russian planes crashed in Siberia, when tumblr user "cockrockets" turned 15, got off her lazy ass, and wrote this story. The day when the country of America quite heroically became a possible member of the Blue Man group and gave birth to his first child.

The events leading up to this occurrence were as such:

It was a beautiful Sunday morning. England jabbed his fingers in his ears and groaned. He wondered *why* exactly he had decided to take America along on his visit to Russia's, as all that the nation had done so far was jabber on and on about being such an amazing hero he was.

Oh, that was right, he hadn't decided to take America on his trip. America, having the hero complex that he had, had decided to tag along. Uuurghhgh.

Through America's endless blather, England and Russia's eyes met. Silently, England mouthed, "DO SOMETHING. OH GOD".

Russia, matching his gaze, nodded. To America, who was continuing to drown his comrades in a stream of garrulousness, he cheerfully exclaimed, "Ah~ America! Do shut up for a moment, I have something for you!"

America, being the empty-headed hero that he was, responded only with "What," and blinked repeatedly.

A deep rumbling emerged from beyond the Void. The Melody of the Madness had begun.

England sighed in relief and closed his eyes. "Finally," he quipped. "I've got a headache today, America, so knock it off," and with that, he flicked America's forehead as retribution for all the years of annoyance that he had suffered.

America yelped and instinctively moved to shield his forehead. Meanwhile, Russia shoved his hands deep within his pants and began rummaging around sketchily.

After several minutes of an awkward silence, Russia pulled a small blue object from the front of his pants. "Ah, I found it!" He positively *beamed* with delight. England made a concerted effort to pull his eyes away from the large bulge in Russia's crotch as the (ahem) very large man continued, "Here, it is a new type of gum that we have started to make."

The stick of gum was thrown at America, who attempted to catch it, but failed, fumbling the small object and collapsing to the ground with a large and meaty "thump."

Russia, watching the event with a growing expression of amusement on his face, chortled, "Try it, since you Americans love this stuff so much."

England picked up the gum from the floor. It was bright blue and had some strange Russian writing on it. It also had... Ugh. He picked a sandy blonde pubic hair off of the gum. Didn't Russians have pockets or something? "Hey, Russia... That looks strangely familiar..."

Russia ignored England and leaned in close to America, smiling extremely creepily. "Do try it, it will taste good~" The tildes falling off his speech were akin to eldritch abominations rolling off the tongue, raping and defiling all those who were unfortunate enough to hear them.

America smiled obliviously as the Elder Gods of the Farthest Ring wriggled deep within his ear, whispering in their abominable tongues and writhing slithily. He grabbed the gum from England's hand and popped it into his mouth, pubic hair and all.

As America chewed the mysterious crotch gum, a mysterious reaction began to occur. "Alfred... Your nose..." In his confusion, England failed to notice his small onomastic slip up. He stood up out of his chair and raised a single, bushy eyebrow. "It-it's turning purple!" he exclaimed loudly.

America's eyes crossed themselves as he attempted to stare at his violaceous nose. Sadly, due to limitations of the human anatomy, he failed in his endeavor. "What're you talking about, England?"

Somewhere in the confusion, Russia had located a chair and sat upon it. He continued to smile, and thought to himself, "Oh, what a comfortable chair!"

Canada's struggles for freedom were horribly defeated by Russia's massive girth.

England's eyes bulged with sheer horror and raised a trembling finger in the direction of America's face. "Now it's your entire face!" He glared at Russia accusingly. "I told you to shut him up, not turn him... blue!"

America remained blissfully oblivious, uttering a single "Huh?" as he continued to chew the mystical crotch candy.

Russia decided to regard his perfect manicure rather than match England's gaze. Ah, Toris was simply the BEST at nail buffing! The paint job, on the other hand... Next time he would see if Raivis would do a better job. "It is shutting him up, though, DAAAA?"

England was painfully reminded of why he didn't spend more time with Russia. All those... beauty treatments... The way he emphasized his "da"s... It was sort of terrifying the way Russia could transform from a sassy gay friend to a ruthless murder machine in TEN. SECONDS. FLAT.

Meanwhile, America broke the tension by moaning, "My clothes are too tight..." and continuing to chew loudly, his blue lips smacking and popping extremely sexily.

England turned and screamed, "OH BLOODY HELL, LOOK AT HIM!" as he flailed uselessly and tried to turn Russia's head towards America's rapidly expanding blue body without upsetting Russia. That shit be dangerous. His eyes bugged out, and he whispered in an awestruck manner, "He's... He looks pregnant... And blue...?"

America placed a hand on his stomach and kept chewing his gum, like an idiot. Or a virgin. Touched for the very first time.

Russia giggled like a schoolgirl. "Why, he looks fantastic!" Sensuously, he noted, "If you do not want his nice clothing to be ruined, you can take them off of him~"

A horrorterror rolled off his tongue like a rainbow in a lottery. America failed to notice, as he had completely focused all of his attention on continuing to chew Russia's delicious, delicious blueberry cock gum.

England gaped at Russia, then at Fluth'lu, then at America. "I... I..." His face turned as blue as the screen of death as his mental functions short-circuited due to a critical amount of current and lack of resistors. Finally, he regained his senses, and sputtered, "America, spit that gum out at once!" as a luminescent blush spread over his cheeks like a pony clopping all over the land.

"Why?" America queried petulantly. Why would he ever want to spit out his gum? It was the most delicious blueberry flavor he had ever tasted. God, England was such an idiot.

England spluttered, "Because..." He gestured wildly at America's increasing waistline and wailed, "Just look at yourself!" He jabbed America's stomach violently, then recoiled as he heard a quiet sloshing sound emanate from America's belly. "Wait..." he stuttered, "wh-what was that?" He poked America again, more gently, with a growing look of horror spreading over his face.

Russia clapped his hands together and exclaimed joyously, "Do not fret so, Angliya, he is supposed to be like this~!"

Ogolg M'Rubbit slithered out of Russia's mouth and crooned its bloodfestering melodies, slowly inciting mass hysteria and insanity. The Vessel was weak; his mind had already broken. Surely, the Noble Circle would be able to find a safe haven here.

America felt more and more unheroic. "I dunno exactly what that was..." He noticed that the button on his pants had detached itself. "But my clothes are hurting me..." he moaned, still chewing the gum.

Russia giggled. "Let me take them off for you~!" he exclaimed, like a child in a massive chocolate factory. He skipped over daintily. The room was beginning to become full of invisible monsters.

America unheroically whimpered. Why exactly had he insisted to go to visit Russia? At least he had his trusty chewing gum for comfort...

Russia slowly and sensuously stripped America's clothing off, licking his lips as he went along. Ah, having a chubbiness fetish, or even just a pregnant-looking man fetish, was surely the most wonderful of things.

America whimpered once more from a mixture of discomfort and unease from being so exposed before Russia and England. Russia was just... A pretty iffy person... and England was his fucking adopted brother! Familial bonds had been FORGED in the fires of INDUSTRY, man! That was just so not cool.

After what seemed to be either a lifetime, several weeks, or perhaps even three minutes, Russia finished sloughing off America's clothing like the husk from a grain of wheat. England nearly shed a tear from how beautiful Russia's stripping skills were. America merely sighed, whispering, "Aaah, that's much better," as he chewed his confectionary.

England then remembered just exactly who he was watching Russia strip, and shook his head violently. In a panicky tone of voice, he exclaimed, "W-we need to let the air out of him, quick!" and tried to ignore his growing erection.

America blinked with confusion, as he was pretty sure that he wasn't full of air. He wasn't experiencing any gas or anything, and he was pretty certain that as he chewed, his gum was producing vast quantities of delicious blueberry syrupy liquid. Which was not a gas.

Russia chortled softly, "Air?" shaking his head. "Oh, he is not full of air~"

NRUB'YIGLITH, SHAMEBEAST KING OF GROTESQUERY, WRITHE-LORD OF THE MOIST BEYONDHOOD, emerged from the flesh-sac, chirping melodiously.

Russia, unfettered, continued, "Well, he's full of hot air when he blathers, but that's differen-"

"I am not full of hot air! And what's even going on?" America interrupted.

England's palm met his face gloriously. A romance blossomed between hand and forehead, filled with flowers and chocolates and blueberry waffles.

England's palm exclaimed, "Oh, England's face, you are like a warm summer's day. Verily, you are beyond compare."

England's face, in particular his mouth, ignored England's lusty hand and angrily asked, "Then what the bloody hell's making him swell up?"

England's hand awkwardly stroked America's swollen stomach. It was way too awkward to handle. England bit his lower lip and tried to ignore all the insanity around his person.

America yelped with confusion at all the homo surrounding him. Everyone was acting so gay, oh my god. It was rather disquieting.

America swallowed.

"Uh... you guys..." he muttered, unheard. He decided to just go with it.

Russia rather delayedly answered England with a cheerful ejaculation of "Juice!" He clapped his hands together, and then sniffed America rather creepily. "Mmm~ he smells sweet~!"

Yog-Sothoth twisted and shrieked from the void. Nyarl'Gthoth chattered and giggled, each of its many mouths within mouths opening and closing like the wings of an iridescent blue butterfly.

America exclaimed, "Guys!" as he tried to get Russia's huge nose out of his personal space.

England trembled. His ochinchin began to feel funny. "Russia... Did you just say 'juice?'" His jaw detached itself from the rest of his skull and dropped rather gruesomely to the ground. Several seconds later, an invisible tentacle grabbed it and rather haphazardly reattached it. Nobody said anything.

America wondered why exactly all these strange occurrences were occurring. He decided to try and engage himself in the conversation rather than just lie back and watch these demented sexual deviants feel up his increasingly swollen stomach. "Hey assholes! I swallowed the gum!"

Russia looked America in the eye and said rather ominously, "You shouldn't have done that..." He then turned to England and replied, "He is full of juice. Now that he has swallowed the gum, he will be even more full of juice." Because obvious things are obvious.

Now, let's have a little math lesson.

If the rate of voluminal expansion of Alfred's stomach is measured in cubic feet per minute, and is equal to 2 ft^3/minute, then what is the rate of change of surface area of his stomach when the volume equals 36π cubic feet? Let us assume that his stomach will take a spherical shape.

V = (4/3)πr^3; SA = 4πr^2

dV/dt = 2

= 4πr^2(dr/dt)

When V = 36π, r = 3

therefore 2 = 36dr/dt

and dr/dt = 1/18

dSA/dt = 8πrdr/dt

= 8*3/18

= 4/3 ft^2/min

That's a pretty rapid expansion!

(´･ω･`) (´･ω･`) (´･ω･`)

We now return to your regularly scheduled programming.

England screeched, "DO SOMETHING!" sounding suspiciously like a harpy. The phrase "keep calm and carry on" was completely forgotten.

America whimpered fearfully with discomfort. "My stomach hurts..." he whined.

England raised one spectacular eyebrow and exclaimed with his regular voice, "Wow, I'm definitely not surprised in any way, shape, or form!" as he waved his arms up and down, looking like a fantastic breed of tropical bird.

"All we can do for him now is juice the poor idiot, but where is the fun in that~?" The lilt of Russia's voice began the ritual. A writhing mass of tentacles rose from the deep abyss of his lungs and twisted dementedly as each tentacle emerged from the yawning void. Russia, undaunted and unawakened, continued on, "I want to play with him a bit first!" and then poked America's stomach with his rather large erect-large finger.

America continued to expand at the fixed rate of two cubic feet per minute. "Oh for the love of all that is holy, someone help!" he exclaimed. He had passed beyond the threshold of merely "man-pregnant" and had broken into the realm of "GABEN". It was truly a sight to behold.

England wiped the seat from his brow with a flowered handkerchief. His eyes seemed to swell out of his face with horror as he stared at Russia and America. He stuttered, "Y-you heard the poor lad, he needs the air," and here, he faltered a bit and stumbled over his words as the ludicrosity of the situation hit him like a piano made of bricks falling from the third floor of an apartment building in Hoboken, "er, I mean juice, squeezed out of him!"

His rather polite request was met by Russia's pouting face. Russia sighed, "Oh, fiiiiiiiiine! I guess we can juice him now, since he is being so whiny!" looking and sounding like a four-year-old child with a flamboyant accent and a silly pink scarf.

America's eyes widened. "Juice me?" he exclaimed incredulously. "N-no way!"

Russia leered disturbingly lustily...ly at America and whispered, "We'll have to push it out of him..."

"How?" asked America, already fearing the answer.

England stared at America and remarked, "That's what I'm wondering."

Russia remained oddly silent with a blissful expression on his face as he poked America's stomach and watched it jiggle, save for the occasional childlike giggle and decidedly unchildlike moan of ecstasy. Everyone tried to awkwardly avoid looking at the expanding bulge in Russia's pants as he gleefully said, "I don't know~!"

A monster with a million mouths and a hundred hands slithered from his lungs. Its name was simply too terrible to type, write, or utter. All at once, two hundred of its mouths slithily muttered, "Margarine," then returned to silence.

England uttered something in a Dravidian language of southern India, which sounded remarkably like "ttha_ttha". Unfortunately, as India was not around, nobody would ever know if England's utterance meant anything at all.

America girlishly screamed, "I don't wanna explode!"

England agreed, "I don't want to explode either!" then rapidly corrected himself after an extended pause, "I mean I don't want you to explode." He paused again, and thought out exactly what he was going to say before he said, "I-it's just that would be a horrid mess, that's all." Bollocks! Misspoke again!

And England slapped himself in the face twice, for a 2x facepalm combo!

America reached a single, tenuous arm towards England, and cried pitifully, "Help me..." as blueberry tears streamed down his face.

Russia, completely missing America's true meaning of "save me from this demented rapist!" and choosing instead to interpret America's cry for help as "oh god this blueberry juice needs to get out of my body right now jesus christ," tried to reassure America by stroking his ridiculously large stomach roughly and murmuring, "Oh, you will stop swelling soon. Do not panic." He giggled creepily and continued rather unnecessarily, "On the other hand, my penis isn't going to stop swelling anytime soon!"

America whimpered with disgust and England rolled his eyes at the lusty Russian. "But when will he stop swelling? When? When he explodes?" America's terrified expression softened England's gaze, and he quickly rubbed America's stomach gently and murmured, "There, there, now please, please don't panic!"

America moaned sensuously, "Ah, that feels good."

England immediately blushed bright red and removed his hand from America's stomach, trying to ignore the tumescence in his pants brought on by America's wanton moans. "D-don't... don't m-make sounds like that..."

"I can't help it," deadpanned America. Well, actually, he could help it a bit, but why would he?

Russia imposed himself on the tender moment and decided to answer England's rather pertinent question. "Oh, he won't burst!" Russia giggled, "Well... not unless he is pricked with a needle!"

America exclaimed an exclamation of "Not funny!" angrily. Everyone suddenly noticed a ripping noise, and America's clothing burst. It was glorious and sexy and actually sort of disgusting because his clothing had been saturated by blueberry sweat.

England narrowed his eyes and glared at Russia. His intense gaze, however, was mollified by the fact that England was, at the same time, resting his head on America's exposed beach ball-like stomach. "You better not be hiding one of those in your pocket, Russia," England said fairly seriously. However, his seriousness was undermined by the ludicrosity of the situation.

Russia somehow managed to stay composed and nonjokingly said, "I wasn't being funny." His face remained completely serious, despite the pure silliness of his surroundings.

America jiggled a little bit. Juice sloshed around inside him noisily. Russia looked at him and smirked a little. To nobody in particular, he remarked, "I want to taste him..."

While England listened to the sloshing inside America, looking suspiciously like a blissful expectant father, America made a rather querulous sound. Russia moved uncomfortably close, pinching one of America's swollen, exposed nipples.

The vodka rolled off his breath as he whispered, "I said I wanted to taste you." The stubble on Russia's chin was dark and highly visible.

America moaned with ecstasy. God, his whole body was just so... so... erotically sensitive today! Wait a second... Was that juice that just oozed out of his nipple?

England turned his head around and locked eyes with Russia. He spluttered with dismay, both at his proximity to the extremely creepy Russian man and the fact that a strange, sticky... blue... substance was oozing out of America's nipple and caking in his hair! "W-what did you just say?"

Russia smirked and decided to answer only by leaning down and sucking on America's tumescent nipple, like a demented manbaby. It was decidedly creepy for all parties involved.

America thoughtfully put a hand over his mouth right before he yelled, "What the fuck are you doing?" Unfortunately, England was too busy sobbing and brushing his hair to hear, and Russia was too determined to be as lascivious as possible to heed America's wishes.

England turned around, having finally gotten the saccharine blue stuff out of his hair. He shuddered at the disturbing sight that lay before his eyes. "Is... Is that how we're supposed to juice him?" He cringed at the thought and extended a tentative arm to hesitantly rub America's other nipple.

America sighed with exasperation. Everyone was becoming such a huge pervert. It was almost as if lustful demons resided in the air that surrounded them.

The Sacrifice had realized the truth. But the Ritual was much too far gone to abort now. Soon, their Master would be reborn, and the multitude of universes would be their Feast. The languages of eternity had been heard, and soon they would embrace the silence together.

Russia purred like a large, lascivious cat and huskily whispered, "It is... one way." He continued to suck on America's teat like a small calf and pushed on his stomach a little bit. "You taste divine, Amerika~"

Nobody noticed as Russia's jaw unhinged and another abomination entered the world. A loud cracking sound went unheard as his jaw relocated. Russia smiled enigmatically.

America whimpered with embarrassment as bright blue juice oozed out of his unwillingly hard penis.

England halfheartedly apologized, "I'm... sorry... America," as he kept on rubbing America's nipple, occasionally pinching and gently yanking on it. More to himself than to anyone else, he swallowed and muttered, "S-so swollen... a-and dark..." His pants felt a bit uncomfortably tight, his moderately sized erection straining at the zipper slightly painfully.

Meanwhile, Russia slid down America's body and wrapped his lips around America's erection, enveloping America's throbbing pork sword with his cavernous maw. America moaned softly, because everyone likes blowjobs.

England looked down at his former colony, the one who he used to call "brother," before he took America's bluish nipple into his mouth and gave it a tentative suck. He closed his eyes and moaned softly around it.

Russia's rhythmic mouth ministrations became just too hot for America to handle, and America whispered "This is so fucking gay," as he orgasmed into Russia's mouth. A sticky blueberry compote-like substance gushed from his cock into Russia's mouth, filling it and more. A thin blue stream drizzled out of Russia's mouth.

Russia swallowed around America's penis and lightly swirled his tongue around the urethral opening to catch any last drops. He pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and said, "Mmm, I want more~" as a slithering tentacle oozed out of the nothingness and glistened in the morning light. Russia continued, "I like sweet Amerika like this, don't you, Anglia~?"

The aberrant fingers of the lesser madness-deities cracked together and knotted themselves in Moebius formations, tessellating and dividing upon themselves like Mandelbrot fractals.

England squeezed America's other nipple, his free fingers massaging America's jiggly man boobs. One of his eyes closed with ecstasy as he moaned quietly and keened against America's soft, soft chest. He stared up into America's blue eyes and romantically whispered, "It tastes like one of your disgusting blue raspberry smoothies..." He paused, and continued, "Except warm... and it actually sort of tastes good..."

America blushed a bright blue and said sweetly, "Did you know that artificial raspberry flavoring is made with an oil found only in the anus of a beaver?"

England softly whispered, "No."

Russia pressed down hard on America's stomach, giggling, "I wonder what happens when I do this~" like a wee child.

M'FHARGOYAKHTH, DEMON-LORD OF THE UNHOLY FLESHSLOUGHERS, rose from his slumbers deep within the Vessel. His cry roused a thousand more to arms. Soon the Black Army, under their still-slumbering overlord, would rise up and lay waste to all that was good and holy. They would blemish all that was pure, and corrupt all that was incorruptible.

England stared down at Russia, and asked bluntly, "What are you doing?" as he took America's squishy moobs into his hands, gently massaging them with his dainty fingers.

America gasped as blueberry juice squirted from his penis and nipples. It was only sort of erotic, but was mostly just pretty disgusting and messy.

It was truly a sight to behold. Russia had shed his massive trenchcoat to reveal only a sports bra and a pair of green slacks, and was licking a strange, thick, sticky, blue substance off of America's stomach and chest. Even more of the stuff dribbled down America's thighs and pooled on the floor. The paintings on the wall seemed to look down on the depravity before them, but that was impossible, because they were paintings and this was not Harry Potter.

Russia laughed mirthfully. "Wonderful!" he exclaimed excitedly as he clapped his hands together. He then started to lick the blueberry juice off of America's body, which had finally stopped expanding, but still resembled a very large indigo watermelon.

England tried to no avail to wipe the blueberry moob-juice off of his face. "Gah..." he uttered disgustedly.

America snickered and snorted unattractively.

England sat up and crossed his arms huffily. "Not funny, you bleeding arsehole!" He hesitantly licked some of the blueberry spray off of his upper lip. Although he wouldn't admit it to anyone, the saccharine sweetness of the stuff was rather... invigoratingly addictive.

America continued to chuckle. "It is to me," he said, a wry smile forming on his face.

Russia uncharacteristically smiled with genuine warmth. "You are being such a delight right now, dear Amerika, much more than usual~"

As he beamed up at America, a vast monster emerged from his right nipple and curled itself around England's average-sized penis. Yes. The depravity would increase itself to massive proportions until the critical point occurred and the Vast Bloodfeaster rose from his eternal slumber.

America's eyes sparkled like an anime schoolgirl from the late 80's. "Really?" he gushed. He stopped himself from calling Russia "Ivan-sempai" before it was too late, happily. Pink bubbles and sparkles appeared in the background and soft music played.

England crossly blurted, "At least you aren't blabbering about being a hero and whatnot..." He squeezed America's gut with his thumb and forefinger.

America reflexively moaned sluttily and squirted even more juice. He looked like the star of some bizarre pregnancy-fetish squirting porno, except he had a penis and was squirting blueberry syrup.

"DAAAAAAAAAAAA~" exclaimed Russia obnoxiously, as a million mushroom-like creatures waxed and waned into the floor invisibly. "Anglia is right!" A cacophonous chorus echoed every word he said, unheard by all but Canada, who whimpered and pulled his knees to his chest as he sat upon a rather comfortable chair.

Russia pushed forcefully on America's stomach, prompting America to ejaculate even more blueberry sauce. Slowly, his stomach started to return to normal.

England huffed with exertion and squeezed America's squishy moob. He could finally fit his entire hand around the thing. "Heh," he smiled, "This is quite..." and here he paused for dramatic effect, "Arousing."

America blushed like a Japanese schoolgirl. "A-arousing?" he asked daintily. It took all of his concentration to not add an "onii-chan" to the end.

Russia lapped up as much of the juice as he could, like a tiny puppy licking another dog's asshole. He happily agreed, "It is~"

America tried not to notice Russia's freakish doomcock, but to no avail. Another wriggling mass joined the symphony of madness that was Russia's sitting room. "I think I'm running out of juice though," America remarked. And it was high time that he did too, because his rapid expansion was pretty fucking disturbing and also pretty disgusting and anyone who has a fetish for that shit should probably be locked up somewhere without a computer.

England huffed and stared at Russia's massive doomcock. "I..." Its glorious magnitude was an affront to all that was good and holy and Protestant. "Y-you think he still has juice in his... you know..." He blushed a bright red.

Russia giggled, "Then we will have to make things quick, DAAAAAAAAAAAAAA~?" Yet another eldritch abomination was born into the world. It was the miracle of life. Russia continued, "And I'm sure he still does~" with a lewd smile.

A million little miracles entered the room via Russia's various orifices. It was almost time. Yes, soon the mountain of madness would rise.

Russia's body was ready. America sloshed quietly and extremely bangably. England expressed his consternation at wanting to bang America as well, but also being unsure about how to leap in for the proverbial kill with that demented Russkie molester in the way. "He still looks... with child, though." England couldn't resist but snicker lustfully.

America stared at England with confusion. "I guess I wouldn't mind being a father sometime in the future..." Maybe with that Belarus girl, she seemed comparatively normal compared to these two weirdoes.

Russia swooned, "Such an adorable look for him~" as the Queen of Hell clambered out of his right testicle to lay waste to the human world. Russia giggled and unbuttoned his pants, which were being horrifically strained by the doomcock. "I wouldn't mind seeing him actually pregnant~!" Russia giggled delightedly. America screamed with horror at the mental image. The room began to shift and pulsate. "Anglia, I have a proposal for you."

Russia unzipped his trousers, revealing the DOOMCOCK.

How does one describe something so monstrous that words fail to fully capture its beastlike depravity? How could one describe the massive girth that bounced gently before England and America's poor virgin eyes? How could the spikes of unknown chitinous material that erupted from various, scattered locations along his shaft ever be fully visualized by words? How it pulsated and shivered in the dim lamplight, how clear precum oozed down its ridiculous length (1.7 feet), how veins popped out of the skin like it was some angry anime character.

England laughed, a bit psychotically. America screamed like a young girl and pissed himself. Russia smiled serenely. When he made the contract to become the Vessel for the Elder Gods they had agreed to grant one wish for him. Certainly he had chosen well. Certainly they had held up their deal.

His mind wholly shattered, England turned to America's unnaturally large stomach and whispered to it like a loving expectant father, "How many months to go, dear?" He patted America's belly lovingly, before turning around and crying some more.

America giggled terrifiedly.

Russia, with a crazed look in his eyes, put a hand on England's shoulder. "I propose we take him. At the same time. What do you say~?" From each horrifying spike on his doomcock, a tiny aberration was born. Russia smiled and turned to America, patting his stomach as he happily schmoozed, "I love this look on you, Amerika~" His gargantuan doomcock shuddered as tentacles shoved themselves out of his urethral opening.

America patted his stomach and oh my fucking god it was touching him he could feel it on his skin

oh

my

fucking

god

jesus christ no

"Hahaha, I kind of like it too..." America lied with a petrified grin.

Meanwhile, England was pondering. He blushed a bit at the thought of fucking his delightful little ex-colony, then finally nodded. "A-alright." He stared at his trousers. Would his... ahem... "Moderately-Sized And Actually Not Really All That Big Ben" compare at all to Russia's DOOMCOCK?

Russia rather uncouthly flipped America over, his blueberry arse up in the air. "Face down, ass up, that's the way I like to fuck!" screamed Russia manlily.

England's eyebrows seemed almost as if they were going to make a bid for freedom and jump right off his face. He couldn't help but notice that America's now-meager tummy bulged out quite a bit more in his current position.

However, after a few calculations, Russia sighed and stared at England with disappointment. "It will be hard for us to both take him at the same time with him bent over like that~" and the eldritch abominations flowing out his ears went completely unnoticed by all, "We need you to ride us like one of Poland's ponies."

America wept a little, then asked, "Are you really, truly, sure?" as he crawled over and positioned himself over Russia.

England, to absolutely nobody in particular, responded, "Er, yes," and clambered next to Russia underneath America's thunder thighs.

America cried out as he stretched his asshole to Goatse-like proportions and lowered himself over Russia's humongoudick and England's less than humogoudick. "oH MY GOD I CAN'T HOLY FUCK," he screamed as his asshole tightened around the spikes.

England's eyebrows twitched as America's insides spasmed around him. "Easy now, lad," he whispered reassuringly as he rubbed America's hips like one would pat a nice horse.

Russia thrust into America violently and without any sense of abandon. "Mmm, you feel so nice and tight, Amerika~" whispered Russia as the walls moved around him. "Who needs lube when you have blueberry juice~?" He grinned winningly even as the fifth dimensional portal opened around them. The room changed from Russia's sitting room to his kitchen due to the rift, but nobody even noticed. They were too caught up in their hedonism.

England thrust into America whenever Russia didn't, panting softly. "Nnh, America, bloody hell, you feel really wet in here, like a woman's pussy." He looked down and saw a disgusting purple pool of blueberry juice and rectal blood forming between his thigh and Russia's. "OH BLOODY FUCK" he screamed and almost went limp from the sight.

"Oh my god Russia I'm gonna fucking cum," cried America, as he fucking came. Blueberry sauce squirted out of his dick. The mysterious blueberry crop in Florida flourished.

While America gasped for breath, completely spent, Russia jammed his 1.7 foot long dOOMCOCK as far as it could humanly possibly go into America's intestines. Massive amounts of sperm and eldritch fetal fluid pumped straight from his quivering, hairy balls into America's transverse colon.

England threw his head back, releasing a quite ungentlemanly groan as he ejaculated inside of America's plush rump. As he moaned, he squeezed America's jiggly thighs that were coated in piss, semen, and blueberry juice.

Russia engulfed America in a crushing bear hug to squeeze out the juice, but also just to hug him. Because Russia just loved hugs. America finally calmed the fuck down because he was no longer full of juice. And also he was experiencing an adrenaline high from having his ass ripped open by Russia's mASSIVE DOOMCOCK. "I think I'm finally better," sighed America with relief.

England sat up, panting with sexual exhaustion. "Ahh... Haah... Th-that's good..." Honestly, though, the sexual experience was rather... lackluster... to say the least. Alas. He looked down at his "not-actually-that-big Ben" and noticed sluggishly that there were long cuts down its meager length. Eh. His eyes continued to travel until they locked on... DAT BLUEBERRY ARSE. "Mmm...marmite..." whispered England almost inaudibly.

America whipped out his cellphone from within his anal canal and sent England a querulous text message: "lolwut dude r u staring at my a$$ lol"

England's phone buzzed. He flipped it open and blushed. out loud he exclaimed, "N-no I'm not! Well... maybe..." he muttered at the end.

Russia, like a concerned parent, papped America's vividly violaceous ass. With consternation, he stared at his blood-covered hand. "A-Amerika. You're bleeding."

America giggled. "It's okey, I'm American!" he exclaimed exuberantly, basking in his newfound homosadomasochism.

England squirmed with embarrassment. "Aaagh, America, get your sexy little ass off of me!" Golly gee willikers, he was getting another erection. Not that anyone who had experienced the DOOMCOCK would notice his normal-for-a-human sized meat wand.

America coyly asked, "Oh, am I sexy?" and wiggled his blueberry-scented blood-streaked piss-stained ass in the air.

"Ooh~!" cried Russia delightedly. Although his body was almost completely free of the mad gods that once resided within him, it seemed that there were still eldritch abominations within him, warping his speech and exiting his body en masse. Of course nobody could see this. "You are a bit of an evil tease, aren't you Amerika!" He giggled devilishly and rubbed his palms together.

America gazed up lovingly at Russia and chortled, "Oh, I just couldn't resist, dahling."

England's basic brain functions ceased for about thirty seconds. He fell flat on his back, his average-sized four point nine inch erection standing at attention at a fifty-degree angle from his body.

"Oh? Anglia, are you all right?" Russia asked worriedly. He took out his humongous doOMCOCK HOLY SHIT MY GOD and began poking England in the face with one of his dick spikes.

America, being the secret drama queen that he was, pretended to overreact. "Oh no, my sugar baby daddy is dead! Dead I say!" he wailed convincingly.

While America pretended to cry, Russia continued to poke England in the face with his doomCOCK. Eventually this degraded into dickslapping. England rose from the dead, coughed a little, and sat up. "But seriously, America, I have a preference for enormous bottoms and I am not bearing false witness," he said as if nothing had even happened and Russia's enormous DOOMCOCK wasn't right there in his face.

Russia chuckled churlishly. "Enormous bottoms? Does that explain why you liked to capture Spain so often during your pirate days~?" The screeching language of madness went unheard. OSTROGO'TH turned in cartwheels around the Vessel.

England promptly passed out, but a few slaps with the DOOMCOCK quickly rectified that. Russia giggled at England, "Silly boy," before turning to America, and delightedly saying, "You made quite the mess, I wasn't expecting this much juice to come out of you!"

America deadpanned, "Sorry dude."

England took a look at his surroundings, and huffily, like an angry MILF, glared at America. "Oh. Right. The mess! That's it, next time Russia gives you a tick of blueberry crotch gum, we're putting a nappy on you! Wait..." he paused, then resumed like a VCR, "...Russia, this was all your fault!"

America crossly exclaimed, "I'm not a fucking baby for you to put nappies on!"

Russia, on the other hand, completely ignored England and said to America, "Must be because you swallowed the gum, although I don't know for certain. The victi-uh, test subjects, never swallowed the gum."

England grew frustrated at America, and muttered annoyedly, "You sure act like one, twat..."

America decided to ignore England's rudeness and replied to Russia, "I... I didn't mean to swallow the gum..."

Russia beamed. "I do not mind that you made a mess, Amerika~" Finally, the mess of eldritch abominations had fully exited his body. He seemed almost... pure... resplendent as he was in the evening sunlight. "It was worth it, da~?" As Russia nuzzled up to America, the final ritual began to start. Finally, what all of the summonings had led up to. Each god of madness looked up to the dying stars and awaited the rebirth of their king.

The threesome remained blissfully unaware. America giggled. "I feel so loved," he beamed blissfully and amorously.

England blushed a little, narrowing his eyes. "I suppose we all love you then, America." He hesitated, before wrapping his arms around America and pecking him on his blue, blue cheek. "But how the bloody hell are we going to get this blue stain out of you, though?"

America blushed a dark indigo. "Uh..." he faltered, "I dunno." Actually, this could be quite a serious problem. What would the other nations think of him if he showed up at a G8 meeting all blue?

England huffed, "You need a bath." Quickly, his mind began to fill with fantasies of bathtime with America... quickly followed by sexytime with America...

"SPROING!" yelled England's boner, which had magically grown a mouth.

Russia smiled peacefully. "Ah, it will wear off. In time."

America's stomach made an eerie gurgling noise. "Agh! My stomach has the rumblies that only hands can satisfy!" screamed America. He fell over, clutching his abdomen and shaking uncontrollably.

"Are you alright, Amerika?" asked Russia with concern. He didn't want America to pull an Economic Flushout and prolapse his intestines all over the place.

England buried his face into his hands and groaned, "Oh, bloody hell, right after we juiced you and everything?"

A single tear fell down Russia's face. "Did... Did he died?" he asked, expressing considerable consternation.

America started to moan as a many-tentacled beast clutching bushels of blueberries slithered out of his ass. It was slimy and slick with blueberry juice, cum, and its own amniotic fluids that Russia had ejaculated previously.

England started to scream girlishly. After a few seconds of flipping the fuck out, he regained his composure and stoically said, "Pardon me, but what the actual fuck?"

Russia blinked with momentary confusion. "Oh my, this is... new..." Was it all a part of the deal that he had made? He had gotten his three wishes, and was this what they had unspokenly agreed to? "Bozhe moye..." he whispered, and tried to picture an Orthodox cross to purify his vision. It failed to work.

America pushed the eldritch abomination-king out of his abused asshole with a loud "pop!" "Aah, I feel much better now," he sighed with relief.

Russia just stared. "Hm. I've never seen that before. Amerika, what did you do exactly?"

America replied, "I'm not sure." Meanwhile, all the gods of the Outer Rings exited the building with their Savior. Finally, they would be delivered from danger. The Vessel had upheld the deal.

England picked up one of the blueberries that JE'GUS had left behind in its newborn wake, and congratulated America. "Congratulations, it's a blueberry!" he cried. "I honestly don't know you guys."

YOU JUST READ A HORRIFIC FETISH FIC!

THE END


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